Activation Degradation: A Novel by Marina J. Lostetter

Author:Marina J. Lostetter [Lostetter, Marina J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780062895752
Google: tdMOEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Harper Voyager
Published: 2021-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Maya shrieked.

She flew away—zipping through space at a heinous speed.

She started her tumble hunched, tight, but soon flung her limbs out like a five-pointed star. Grasping at nothing. Kicking at nothing.

Buyer shouted—first at Fuentes, asking after the explosion, then at Maya. “What? Okeke, what is it?”—over and over, even as Aimsley’s handler rambled on.

The AMS unit wanted to yell at them both to be quiet. It couldn’t hear Maya clearly, but she was talking—begging.

“I can’t— Please, I can’t—”

Aimsley waited for her to right herself—to use her jets to reel herself back in. But she kept shrinking into the expanse, becoming a startlingly small point in mere moments. The green of her suit darkened with the distance, and she fell out of the sun’s glare, into shadow.

It looked as though space had swallowed her up.

“Okeke!” Buyer cried. “Okeke, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I can’t— There’s something wrong with my suit!” she shouted. “I can’t get any of the safety jets to activate!”

Which meant not even the automated retrieval system could save her.

She was helpless.

Aimsley didn’t think.

It simply dove.

The shell’s jets sprang to life, blasting it in the direction of the flailing human.

It followed her trajectory as tightly as it could, weaving only to dodge a small cloud of metal flotsam, all the while ignoring its handler’s demands to know what was going on—why Unit Four’s biometrics were wavering, spiking.

Aimsley could hear its own breath rattling in its helmet, and it tried to make that sound its new drumbeat—it’s new, even, steady mental-touchstone.

It pushed out the voices, zeroing in on Maya’s shape, giving its full attention to the minute changes in trajectory it needed to make.

It cursed at itself as it realized it had initially miscalculated. In the heat of the moment, Aimsley had forgotten it had exhausted more than one of its jets during their initial combat. But it quickly recovered, twisting itself to make the best use of its propulsion.

“I’m coming,” it shouted over the top of Buyer and its handler. “Maya, reach for me!”

Her tumbling form contorted further as she tried to pinpoint the AMS unit. Her arm snapped outward.

She grew in Aimsley’s sights.

So close. Nearly there.

One wrong move and it would blast by her.

Her hand stretched forward.

So did its.

Both of them strained.

Green-clad fingers slid into turquoise ones.

And almost out again.

Aimsley howled in frustration as Maya threatened to slip through its grasp. It clawed at her, determined not to fail, not to waste any extra time, energy, or fuel—not to spend one extra second out in this hellish radiation.

It held her fingers fast—twisting them awkwardly, unnaturally, but tightly.

Yanking her close, it smacked into her back soon after, wrapping her in its arms as it redirected them, stopped the tumbling—pointed them toward the ship.

“I’ve got you,” Aimsley huffed, breath still coming heavily. It pulled her firmly against its chest. “You’re okay.”

She made a strangled sort of sob but said nothing. She held on to Aimsley with an equally iron grip, arms folding up over its.

Below their feet, the wedge curved away from Io, leaving them suspended with nothing between them and the moon.

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